Young Roddy - After Hours lyrics

Trynna drink away my pain, that made me throw up (throw up) They shot my ni**a in the back, that made him slow up (slow up) Might let my b*tch drive while I roll up My brother fighting a charge but we don't fold up (we don't fold up) My girl say she scared for me, I just tell her pray for me (amen) OG had to pay the lawyer fees with cocaine money Forty years flat, two of my ni**as got the same number Heart turned cold, damn look at what the game done ya Might cop the Wraith, the double Rs on the headrests For mama because she worked too hard, the doc said she needs bedrest Really from the hood, I take you spots where they be spraying at Where I lost my mans at, sold my first grams at Them goons get the drop on your spot and it get ransacked Fresh up out the gutter where they shootin and throwing hands at Crabs in a barrel, never let them fu*k your plans up Mother fu*k the cops, them crackers shooting us with our hands up Dope boy, might just pull up on you in a Lamb truck Rule 1, if you get caught, don't give your mans up We don't play no zones around this b*tch, ya gotta man up Ball like I'm Bradley Beal on a b*tch, and one Gun smoke, cocaine, that's the sh*t we came from Learned from my pop mistakes, try not to make the same one Never wife a b*tch, them hoes will leave you when the rain come When them chopper bullets rain, it'll stain something fu*k around and I aim at your kingdom ni**as ain't dumb Look, they tried to pass it off to them other ni**as, we ain't them Real ni**as rep around the globe where we came from Route sent a kite, I'm like say when' He knows his ni**a DZA get it shaking like a paint can Know some ni**as hating on the net through on their fake grams Really they be pussy and they really be confused cuz they fans Pardon the fallen, pardon me darling I ball, I belong in the Barclay, the Garden The Harlem bred, they aren't us This thing of ours belong to us, it's all in trust, Chronic and foreign trucks With all the feats, all our retreats Jewelry, expensive feets Women wearing the least Pose another selfie for the freaks Rollin up the hottest thing smoking in the streets Dope boy, might just pull up on you in a Lamb truck Rule 1, if you get caught, don't give your mans up We don't play no zones around this b*tch, ya gotta man up Ball like I'm Bradley Beal on a b*tch, and one Gun smoke, cocaine, that's the sh*t we came from Learned from my pop mistakes, try not to make the same one Never wife a b*tch, them hoes will leave you when the rain come When them chopper bullets rain, it'll stain something Tires wet like they black glass Trunk in the front, motor in back, you know it's fast I could teach a class, but that's too much game For me to lands two semesters, you'll need so many life lessons You'll need to sit down for so many sessions Them losses that I took was really blessings Above my shoulder is my sharpest weapon Like a Smith and Wesson killing beats and bring them checks in I done turned into a bill collector I bought a office space, I'm waiting on the building inspector Get these permits, these licenses, then it's back to balling out and buying sh*t Always knew I'd be rich, ain't know which woman I would end up with Player for life, b*tch I'd never quit And on my Tre first homeboys I would never switch up That's that su*ka stuff, that's not for us I hit Rolls Royce dealer, got a coupe and a truck Eat my dust Dope boy, might just pull up on you in a Lamb truck Rule 1, if you get caught, don't give your mans up We don't play no zones around this b*tch, ya gotta man up Ball like I'm Bradley Beal on a b*tch, and one Gun smoke, cocaine, that's the sh*t we came from Learned from my pop mistakes, try not to make the same one Never wife a b*tch, them hoes will leave you when the rain come When them chopper bullets rain, it'll stain something